


keep your friends close and your enemies closer

by TheBestDetective



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bread as a metaphor for love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23946508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBestDetective/pseuds/TheBestDetective
Summary: He’d never heard about it, having the same name on both wrists, so naturally, Tommy assumed it to be a mistake or a cruel joke on mother nature’s side or god or whoever else was responsible for the mess of it.OrSoulmate AU where you have you enemy’s name on one wrist and your soulmate’s on the other.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 22
Kudos: 175





	keep your friends close and your enemies closer

**Author's Note:**

> I had a random burst of inspiration while reading this tumblr post i had saved somewhere:
> 
> i’m so tired of the AU where your soulmate’s name is on your wrist. i want my enemy’s name on my wrist. i wanna know who i’m going to have to physically fight eventually. turn on your fucking location
> 
> your enemy’s name on one wrist and your soulmate the another. no clue which is which. hope it’s not the same name on both wrists. 
> 
> I don't take credit for the idea, but I thought it would work so well with Tommy and Alfie, so here, have 2k I spontaneously wrote!
> 
> English isn't my first language and I wrote this in like, two days, so I'm sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Tommy first saw the name _Alfie Solomons_ when he was old enough to read. He was finally able to spell out the words on both of his wrists, even if he didn’t know what they meant, yet.

Tommy first heard the name _Alfie Solomons_ when he’d been planning to head out to London for a few days. He wanted to branch out, and he’d gotten a telegram.

_Let’s break bread together._

Many people ignored their marks. If you were lucky enough to find your soulmate, congratulations, but life was harsh, and so it wasn’t uncommon or scandalous to see people getting married and falling in love with people who weren’t their soulmates.

Not everybody believed in it, too. _A hoax_ , some called it.

_You can't tell which is which!_

_I won't let my bloody life get dictated by two names that don’t mean anything to me._

Lots of voices with lots of different opinions.

His own mother had a name on her wrist that wasn’t that of his father. She’d only talked about it once, told him it was a boy a year older than her, and he’d died from a fever when he was 19. He’d never asked her more about it and then she’d died, too, and that was it.

The other, less pleasant part of the deal – your enemy – most never even met. For some, it was a nanny who meant them ill when they were a child, for others, it was a lifelong feud ending in gore and betrayal and murder. An enemy was much harder to spot because there were many more people that wished you ill than good.

And then, with the war? Every soldier who takes a shot at you could be the name on your wrist.

You hoped that your enemy died before you could meet them. Because if you did, your life had a great chance at turning into a tragedy.

Oh, but when you’ve found your soulmate? When you really, truly found the person you can be with for the rest of your – or their – life?

A love story.

Not without difficulties or hurdles, but a love story no less, if you could work through it.

It was a private affair, most of the time. People didn’t walk around flaunting their marks. It was dangerous, too. A man with both of his marks showing the names of men? A woman having only women’s names on her wrists? You’d do good to hide, and hide well.

Tommy did. From when he was a child, he took great care to never show anyone besides Polly his marks, and even she only saw it on accident. His mother knew too. And his father, although he only spared a thought when he was drunk, and then he spared a fist, too.

Not even Arthur knew. Or maybe he did, and just didn’t care. Either way, that’s how Tommy would like it to be until he’s in his grave.

He’d never heard about it, having the same name on both wrists, so naturally, he assumed it to be a mistake or a cruel joke on mother nature’s side or god or whoever else was responsible for the mess of it.

It had made him panic, when he was a child.

Then, as a teenager, he tried denial. It may be a nickname for a girl, may be truly a coincidence that his soulmate and his enemy had the same name. Could be-

Now, he ignored it. Or rather, he made a decision.

Should he ever meet the mysterious _Alfie Solomons_ , he’d shoot him before he could get out a single word.

Better to have a dead soulmate you never knew than to have one that’s a man, a powerful one at that, and most importantly: _your fucking enemy_.

He’d kill two birds with one stone that way.

The plan was perfect, and Tommy had every intention of following through with it until he stepped foot into the bakery for the first time.

It became a little less perfect after that.

One, it probably wasn’t a smart idea to shoot the man who invited you into his house point blank if you’d like to get out of it alive.

Two, Tommy was a business man, and gathering information and making deals was good for business.

Alfie Solomons was-

He was not what Tommy expected. Not that he had a concrete version of him in his head at all, but if he _would_ have imagined someone, it wouldn’t have been Alfie.

A man with his shirt haphazardly buttoned up, dirt on his trousers, a cane on his side and a pair fine reading glasses around his neck.

He made for a strange picture, and Tommy ignored the sense of familiarity that seemed to click into place when they locked eyes for the first time.

Alfie offered him a drink- no. Bread, he offered him bread, and Tommy took it.

What they established in the following months was a business-pact, then an allyship and eventually a careful partnership. A very careful one, because there wasn’t one day that Tommy forgot about the name on his wrists and what they meant.

Not that he was the biggest believer in true love and eternal antagonism, far from it, but still.

“Thought my soulmate was a woman, when I was a child.” Alfie’s voice cut through the silence, out of the blue.

They were sitting opposite each other in Alfie’s office. Tommy swallowed. The implication hung in the air, yet Tommy was afraid to grasp it. _It’s not a woman now?_

“One arm, you know, shows a man’s name, the other a woman’s.”

Why was he telling Tommy about it, why can't he just stay fucking quiet? Tommy didn’t want to hear it.

“Thought I’d marry the woman and kill the guy, classic story.”

Tommy was here to discuss a new trade deal, and after a heated argument about what percentage Alfie would get out of it, they simply started to give each other the cold shoulder, Tommy smoking one cigarette after the other and Alfie fiddling with his rings while giving him the occasional grunt as he pretended to read the contract over again. It was ridiculous, since Tommy didn’t leave and Alfie didn’t kick him out.

“And you are telling me this, why?” Tommy tried to sound detached, bored.

Alfie leaned back, interlacing his fingers and sinking into the chair. To anyone else, he’d seem relaxed and non-threatening, but Tommy saw right through him.

He hated that he could read Alfie so well, even as he made the conscious effort to ignore most of his strange behavior. He was his soulmate, yes, but also his enemy, so why should he care for him at all? The one outweighed the other, clearly.

“Which one am I, Tommy?”

Tommy furrowed his brows.

“I saw your wrist, right? You got careless. So, which one am I?” Alfie mumbled. He had to be joking, clearly. Tommy still felt a jolt of panic surge through him. He couldn’t actually have been so reckless to let his shirt slip up, could he?

“You didn’t see my wrist.” Tommy said, stubbing out his cigarette and promptly taking out a new one. His head was still reeling from Alfie’s … confession? Story, statement earlier. Whatever.

“Are you accusing me of lying, mate?” Alfie sounded comically offended. He even went so far as to dramatically put a hand over his chest. It only marginally eased the sense of dread that threatend to rise in Tommy’s body.

“I sure am.”

The banter wasn’t new, Tommy would even go so far and consider it a fixed point in their monthly, sometimes weekly meetings.

“Well, you didn’t answer my question.”

“And I won't.” Tommy said. “I know for a _fact,_ that you didn’t see my wrist, Alfie, so would you cut it.”

Alfie hummed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. He made for a funny picture, all sprawled out in his desk chair.

“You’re being awfully defensive, if I may say so.”

“You may not.”

That just made Alfie lick his lips. He didn’t take his eyes off Tommy.

“Well, if you don’t show me your wrist, I’ll go ahead and assume that you’re my lovely soulmate, yeah? Could even start to plan the wedding.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tommy muttered under his breath. He had to get out of here or his uneasiness would overtake his absolute irritation at the man sitting across from him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then started to pack up his papers, moving to stand up to put on his overcoat.

“Show me your wrist, then.”

All in all, it wouldn’t do much damage, would it? He’d told Alfie once that he’d kill him, for business reasons or bad blood. The mere implication that Alfie knew the name on Tommy’s wrist was enough to justify his killing, or at the very least, his betrayal. It was his own fault, even.

“Will you stop bothering me and take the 20 percent cut if I show you?”

“Yes.” Alfie lied.

Tommy moved to open up his cufflinks and pushed aside the bandages on his wrist to reveal the name.

Alfie’s face was unusually somber, yet confused.

“There you have it.” He said impatiently, avoiding to look at Alfie directly, putting his cufflinks back on and then he took his coat off the hanger and moved to put it on.

Alfie stood up too, and placed himself in front of Tommy. He was quiet, and that alone was enough to put Tommy on the edge.

“Wrong hand.”

It made Tommy stop in his tracks, even though he didn’t fully understand _why._ There was something in Alfie’s voice that made shivers spread through his whole body, from head to toe. It was right before him, like a missing word on the back of his tongue, so close yet not fully there. He just needed a last push-

And then Tommy realized that he just did the single most stupid thing of his entire life, and he could shoot himself three times over in hindsight, because he didn’t even realize it until Alfie pointed it out.

Alfie never told him which hand he saw. And Tommy, so wrapped up in his own annoyance at Alfie, was too distracted to ask him. It was the same name on both wrists, anyways, so what did it matter to him?

It was a fifty-fifty chance, and he fucked up.

“You showed me your right wrist.” Alfie said, slowly tugging Tommy’s right hand up on his coat. “And what I saw was your left hand.”

He showed him the wrong fucking hand.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

“So, I’m a bit confused here, Tommy, because,” he moved to loosen up the cufflinks that Tommy just fastened and turns his wrist up. “that would mean, if I’m not mistaken, that you have my name on _both_ of your wrists.”

He cocked an eyebrow at Tommy, and for once in his life, Tommy had to admit defeat. No use in denial, this time around.

He bit the inside of his cheek, almost hard enough to draw blood, just to feel something else than panic and shame and shock.

Tommy straightened up, pushed his chin out and resolutely moved to unbutton his other wrist.

The damage was already done, Tommy thought, and he can just kill Alfie after this. Then no one besides himself will know.

The man in question was looking at both of Tommy’s wrists now. He wasn’t touching him, but he looks like he wanted to. Finally, he huffed out a breath and met Tommy’s eyes.

Alfie was a very expressive man, but he could be unreadable when he wanted to, Tommy found out. Tommy was tempted to ask him if he enjoyed playing poker, once.

“Oh, Tommy. If this is your idea of courting me, then you’re doin’ a bloody crappy job, mate.”

Was he … joking? About this?

“I’m going to kill you now, Alfie.”

Alfie didn’t look the least bit bothered at Tommy’s threat. Granted, it was spoken with more confusion than actual hostility.

“No, you won't.” Alfie continued. And then he started to grin. A mischievous, cunning, cat-got-the-canary grin. It started to convert Tommy’s panic into bewilderment and then anger.

Anger, that he could deal with.

Instead of going for his gun, Tommy took Alfie by the lapels of his shirt, pulled him close and bared his teeth.

“Do you think that _anyone_ who saw these marks lived to talk about it? Do you think I just let people go around with that kind of knowledge?”

“Yes, well, you apparently haven't taken into account that I’m not _anyone._ ” His hands snaked upwards and curled around Tommy’s wrists, grabbing him.

“You are my enemy, and I won't- “

Alfie grabbed the back of Tommy’s neck and crashed their mouths together, suddenly. It wasn’t very graceful or pleasant at first, just dry lips and teeth knocking together, muscles coiled tight with tension and rage. Neither of them let up, though, and a few seconds later the kiss turned less brutal, more urgent. Still violent and biting, but the kick of adrenaline numbed the pain and just left the pleasure between them.

“Yeah, but I’m also your fucking soulmate, Tommy.” Alfie said, panting against Tommy’s mouth, amusement and certainty dripping from his words.

It had a sense of finality to it.

_Shut up shut up shut up._

“I will, someday.” Tommy said, forcing as much determination as he could into the sentiment. “Kill you.”

Alfie hummed. “Maybe. But not today, sweetheart.” Before Tommy could protest the pet name, Alfie tugged him forward and kissed him again. The movement was far to gentle, which was an inconvenience, because if he’d used force, then Tommy would have the justification that he didn’t want this, but now?

Oh no, this was worse, because Tommy could swing his fist, could reach for his gun, could kill Alfie right there without any difficulties, if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

He just kissed him back. Tilted his head, opened his mouth, slipped his tongue into Alfie’s mouth. Pressed him against the desk to gain back the sense of control he started to lose as Alfie raked his hand through Tommy’s hair and scraped his fingers against his scalp.

“’s a very elaborate attempt at murdering me, Tommy.” Alfie’s voice was hot against Tommy’s ear, breathless, his words creeping into Tommy’s body, into every limb and crevice.

“Someday.”

_What’s it going to be?_

_A love story?_

_Or a goddamn tragedy?_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also, I'm about 30k words deep into a Peaky Blinders Oceans's 11 AU that's about 80 percent done, so I'll post that sometime, if anyone's interested.
> 
> My tumblr is [iwonderifthatisart](https://iwonderifthatisart.tumblr.com/), if you want to come visit me there.
> 
> And of course, I'd love to hear what you think in the comments!


End file.
